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I have serious problems with this book's premise. Although everyone has a right to their own opinion, I have a problem with a book catagorized as "Christian Fiction" and it go off the deep end like this one does.

The reason I have a problem is because "The SPIRIT OF SWEETGRASS shifts less successfully to the afterlife, where her Gullah-Creole ancestors surround her; but soon, her heavenly peace is disrupted, for she still has work to do. Now Essie Mae, who once felt powerless and invisible, must find the strength within her to keep her South Carolina family from falling apart. Together, with Daddy Jim, they team up to return to Earth and battle two spirits conjured up by Henrietta's voodoo that threatens to ruin an attempt to save the sweetgrass basket weaving culture."

Jesus emphatically and clearly states that we do not "come back to earth" to "fix problems". That is found in Luke 16... Jesus tells us about Lazarus and the Rich Man. Lazarus was not allowed to go back and warn anyone of anything.

For me this book pushes the envelope way to wide... so wide, everything falls out on the floor.

Fifteen months ago I graduated from college. It was an exciting time, and it was winter. Snow and ice covered most of the Texas panhandle so I opted not to attend my own graduation.

Don't do that. Do what ever it takes to get to your graduation and accept your degree from the hands of the educator. There is nothing like that feeling of accomplishment. I got mine in the mail. I celebrated with my Mom, and that was great. However, there is nothing like walking across that stage and accepting the thing you spent so much energy, time and brain power on.

I waited until I was forced into finishing my degree, before I actually went back to college. Where I lived, there wasn't a job market. You had to wait for someone to retire or die before you could get a job. So, I went back to school and finished my degree. It is never too late, but it is always better to do it earlier than later.

Remember, you are always in control and no one is telling you what to do. College professors or employers may make you think they are telling you what to do, but they are merely giving you what most term, policy. They are rules they want you to follow. You, however, are the one that makes the decision to either follow the rules or to not follow the rules.

It is always up to you to make that decision. I suggest to you that you think past your nose when making decisions. Ask yourself, what is the consequence of this choice? That choice? Which is better for me and those that I love?

Some smart alec once said that rules were made to be broken. Really?

Rules, in my opinion, are like protective baby buggy bumpers. You may dive head first into one, but you won't come out beat up, purple and blue, if you decide obedience is the order of the day.

Maybe a better word is Discipline or Self-Control. People who have self-control make much better decisions than those who live for the moment, never having a care for anyone but themselves.

Be the ant instead of the grasshopper and make sure you provide for yourself in your later years. That's another decision you must make.

You never know who you are influencing. The words you speak today may come back to you months or years later... make sure they are sweet, and not bitter.

Someone once said that a hot cup of coffee placed in the refrigerator will eventually grow cold. It won't ever make the things around it hot, unless it is plugged into a power source.

Before you go streaking towards the rest of your life, figure out what your Power Source is. If you depend upon yourself, you'll let yourself down. If you depend upon someone else, you'll be disappointed eventually because no one is perfect. There was only one Person born who was perfect. I urge you to get to know Him and make Him your power source.

The success of the mission in Burma was completed by the Mars Task Force.

The Unit was deactivated and the casual was mostly sent into China. In China, men were dispersed into many units to make ready for the invasion of Japan. Men were assigned to Chinese units as instructors, others as truck drivers, etc. My job was to oversee a casual detachment to dispense men to other units in need.

When the war ended with the dropping of the atomic bombs, I moved our detachemnt back to Kunming, China, a three day road trip by truck. On arriving in Kunming, hoping to be shipped to India for a trip home, we were immediately moved into downtown Kunming to protect American installations, officers, hotels, Red Cross buildings and USO buildings. The Civil War between the Communists and Nationalists had begun. There was a fight for contol.

As the battle moved on, we were moved out of Kunming to a camp where we were processed and flown to India. In India, we were processed again and after some delays, boarded a ship and sailed across the Pacific to land in Tacoma, Washington, USA.

This completed my trip around the world as well as the others that were still alive.

The ship home was much more pleasant than the trip over. We were allowed to stay top side on the deck, day and night. The weather was great for November 1945. Mot of us slept onn deck at night. It would be most difficult to relate our feelings as the ship docked in Tacoma when we saw large signs on the warehouses and other buildings that said,

WELCOME HOME! JOB WELL DONE!

The band began to play and people on the docks were cheering, smiling and waving. Yes, most of us had a lump in our throat and a tear in our eye.

We were home.

Older now, with a knowledge of how important life really is. A tremendous price had been paid by many men that gave me the privilege to walk down the gang plank to a...

FREE NATION.

ooOoo

Ray Mitchell lived in Picayune, Mississippi for many years, but died November 13, 2011. I cannot express how deeply proud I feel to have been able to talk with him about his experiences in India and Burma and China. I loved hearing his stories.

It is so incredibly sad that our WWII veterans are dying at the rate of about 1,500 per day. If you have a grandfather, a father, an uncle, aunt, grandmother, mother who served in our Armed Forces in any war, I strongly urge you to take the time to sit and talk with them about it. It is something that you will never forget and you won't be the same after it.

Some history students at Picayune Memorial High School had this kind of opportunity every year. What is so wonderful is that it rejuvenates the veterans, and educates the young people. There was a decided spring in their step after that day, so says one of the teachers who helped bring that march through history alive and real to some high school history students.

Far left is Ray Mitchell, cranking the radio "juicer". Shaving is Jim Harps. The radio man is Jim Junkins.

From Ray Mitchell's memoirs...

We now had commanding view on the Old Burma Road that ran from Kunming, China into Burma. From our position we were able to direct artillery and mortar fire on the Road. This was done day and night to make it difficult for the enemy to supply troops fighting the Chinese further up the Burma Road leading into China. Patrols were sent to the road, land mines were planted, and truck convoys were ambushed as they attempted to run the blockade. In cutting the supply linne to the enemy, they were forced to withdraw from the engagement with the Chinese.

The Japanese tried to dislodge us from our positions using heavy artillery, 105mm and 155mm, trying to overrun our positions, almost succeeding at times.

Third Battalion was on a lower hill several miles from us with artillery because we did not have a place for artillery on the ridge. Our losses were beginning to incrfease due to the 155 artillery shells--we were too crowded.

In the battle for the Burma Road, our air support wsa by the P-47, called 'the Jug'. A very powerful effective fighter bomber equipped with eight 50 caliber machine guns, plus carrying many 250 pound bombs. The P-47 planes were so close to us we could see the expressions on thhe faces of the pilots. One of the planes came in very low to strafe the ridge in front of us, but he still had a 250 pound bomb that had hung up without his knowledge. When he hit the trigger for the machine guns, the bomb was released just above six of us standing and watching the power show by the fly boys.

It all happened so fast we could not hit the ground. The bomb landed in the middle of our group. As the bomb hit the ground, probably traveling between 250 and 300 miles per hour, the sound emitted was similar to a speeding car putting on brakes and tires burning rubber on a paved road. The bomb did not explode, which is obvious because I'm here, but ricocheted off the hard ground, going another 75 to 100 yards and exploded on conntact on the enemy position!

We took a deep breath, let it out very slowly and went about our business. Later in life, I was told by a pilot of the same type bomber plane that the bomb did not explode because a small propeller in the nose of the bomb had a pin on it and was pulled from the propeler, allowing it to rotate. After turning about six times, the bomb was activated and would detonate on impact.

The Mars Task Force for this battle had brought the entire Brigade into action. I understand that this was the only Brigade in the Army. Our make up was the 475th Infantry Regiment which had 3 Battalions of about 1,000 men in each Unit with a portable surgical unit attached -- Not a MASH unit like on TV.

One night I was in the bunker with the Commanding Officer, Colonel Thrailkil. I was the Sgt. Major and he wanted to go to the observation post that overlooked the road. It was a very bright moon that night and you could see anything that moved. He and I moved along the ridge in a trench to the observation post. When we reached the opening, I told the Colonel that I needed to go to my foxhole for some cigarettes. I was a heavy smoker, and I had been out for several hours not being able to smoke. The Colonel did not smoke. I left the observation post and went to my foxhole for a pack of cigarettes.

I lit one before heading back to the observation post which was only about 10, maybe 15 yards away. The artillery started up before I made it back, the 155mm were coming in. I started to try to make it back between shells, but decided to wait until it was over. The observation post received a direct hit. I was the first to arrive and began moving logs and then the wounded. There were six menm in the post, thheree killed, including the Colonel who was blown in half, the other three were wounded.

Sgt. Milton Kornfeld of Brooklyn, NY had a leg blown off, all but a small ligament. The medic just pulled a trench knife and cut the ligament to free him from the logs that pinned him down. Kornfeld did not lose consciousness, and on the stretcher he kept talking. I went to him and told him not to talk so loudly because he was drawing small arms fire.

He called me by name and said, "Mitch, you have always heard that the fastest thing in the world was a Jew passing Hitler's house on a bicycle. I heard that big shell coming and I moved out of the way faster...all but one leg!" Kornfeld survived to go home.

At this point I would be remiss if I did not give praise to our medical people. From the aide in the foxhole who never hesitate when the cry "Medic!" was heard to those in the aid station. It took courage to crawl out to a wounded man during the battle. They did! And the aide station with the tow surgeons working under the poorest of conditions did an outstanding job.

I understand tht if a wounded man could be reached by the aide man, his chances on surviving was about 60 percent. If the wounded man could reach the Battalion aide station, his chances increased to about 75 percent. If his luck held and he could make it to the protable surgical unit, usually about five miles behind combat zone, the chances go up in to 80 percent. Next came the evacuation byy small plannes to a field hospital, there his luck goes into the 90 percent range. The last would be a general hospital, then his chances could be as high as 98 percent. The medical personnel did more with less than any group could.

I was told to take Colonel Thrailkil's effects to the Regimental Commanders and tell him what had happened. The Regimental Commanding Officer was Colonel Easterbrook, the finest of men, an officer and a gentleman. In fact, he was General Stilwell's son-in-law. After talking with Colonel Easterbrook, I explained that I needed to hurry and leave in order to get back to the 2nd Battalion before dark. It was about five miles and I was walking. The Colonel, in his gentle way, told mem to stay in the night in the portable surgical unit, have a good meal and a night's sleep and to see him the next morning before returning to my unit. The next morning, I returned to the Colonel's headquarters and he met me with a towel, a bar of soap and a razon. Smiling he told me to go to the nearby stream and clean up. I protested, telling him I need to hurry back to my unit. With that smile he said, "Sgt., that war will be there when you get back." I took the bath and shaved, I surely felt guilty when I returned to my unit all clean.

From Ray Mitchell's memoirs... Burma, 1944. At right, Sgt. Major Ray Mitchell in China, 1945. He was about 24 years old.

As it began to lighten up the next morning, several of the enemy wandered into our line. You can just imagine what took place. They were not prepared, we were. The slaughter began.

The ground was level so the field of fire reached a long, deadly way. The Japanese's officer began trying to rally his troops, and then lead them into a 'banzi' attack on our fixed positions. The slaughter continued.

To cause them even more confustion the Nisei shouted orders for them to fall back. This cause the troops to stop, hesitating and to begin milling around. This was complete disaster for them. Their attack failed, they were driven back, leaving many dead and wounded.

In the days to come, we saw lots of actgion and found valuable information on several of the dead Japanese officers. The Nisei could read and interpret papers guiding us as to what we should do.

We were shocked to learn that we were fighting a Division. That's between 8,000 to 10,000 Japanese to our 1,000 or less. We immediately made radio contact for assistance. The 3rd Battalion was about a hundred miles away, and they began moving to assist us. There were there in five days.

We were very lucky. The Japanese would draft men into the Army in Japan, give them a few weeks of training, then send them to fight the very poorly trained and ill equipped Chinese. Thus, they had on the job training. After the Japanese were combat trained, then they were sent into the Pacific front or other areas that were fighting trained, well-equipped men. This Division was looking to fight the Chinese, be we got in their way. With our fire power, and well-trained men, the Japanese could never penetrate our line. That was their way of fighting--over run and cause panic of the enemy, except the tables were turned here. They broke off the action and retreated from the area. We later heard that the Japanese Division had suffered more than 80 percent casualties, the Unit was deactivated and those left were sent to other units. And, the commanding officer was executed. We left our dead in a temporary cemetery, less than fifty men died, but that was still too many.

After Tonkwa, we moved into the mountain jungles. It was slow moving. Here you learned that combat will sap your strength because you donn't move around or get the exercise to keep fit. However, in a few days, you begin to adjust and your strength and stamina return and you are fine.

We moved further south and into higher mountains with more streams to cross. We had to be very careful day and night because at night we could hear the Japanese planes searching for us. We called the plane, "Bed Check Charlie". This is one of the main reasons we would leave our bivouac area in the morning before daylight. Just in case the planes had spotted us during the night, we'd be gone.

As we continued moving, we knew we were getting closer to our objective due to the restrictions imposed. No fires at any time, keep the voices low, stay in a quiet mode.

Then we moved into the stream for several days, moving all day then near dark, climbing up on the bank to attempt sleep. All of a sudden we went into a force march, moving fast.

We broke out of hte mountains and into a beautiful valley. Across the valley was a high ridge named Loi Kang. It would later be called Bull's Eye Ridge.

We attacked the ridge late that afternoon. It was necessary because we were now exposed to the enemy. We managed to make it half way up the ridge before it became too dark to move on. The next morning we reached the top of the ridge and took (occupied) about half of the long high ridge. The ridge had a 6,000 foot elevation. I know it was difficult to climb, especially with someone above you throwinng grenades down at you! From the Loi Kang ridge, we had the Burma Road in view below us.

We were separated from the Japanese by a narrowing of the ridge. We could not move across the well-defended ridge nor could the enemy move forward to attack us. It was a stalemate for the present time. The ridge was not very wide at any place, therefore, we became a good target for the enemy artillery.

Since the real estate was divided, but close, it was easy for the Japannese to direct very heavy artillery on our positions.

The battle raged on for weeks, during the Monsoon season. The rains kept you wet most of the time. When the sun did shine, within a short period of time, we were wet with perspiration.

The rain would fill your fox hole causing you to leave your protection and lay on the water covered ground. Leeches would find a away through your clothes and attach themselves to your body. It was not unusual to see men strip off their clothes and have a buddy with a lighted cigarette touch the leech and it would fall off. If you tried to pull it off, often the head would remain in the victim and an infection would follow.

Myitkyina was taken and I searched out the MIAs. We took the degrading detail which was very difficult, burying our dead and the enemy's dead as well as searching out and disposing of the unexploded shells. We moved back about 15 miles and built a camp. Camp Landis was named for the first Marauder killed in action. Within days after moving back to begin the camp, most of the battle weary had to be evacuated to the hospitals-they were too weak and sick for duty.

At Camp Landis, the 5307th CUP, Merrill's Marauders, was deactivated in early August 1944.
Those of us that were left activated the 475th Infantry and began to receive men back from the hospitals and also troops from the states. We had the foundation of combat troops to begin a new Unit.

Training began in earnest and the end result was a strong, well equipped, well-trained fighting Unit that would see more combat down through Central Burma. Joining the 475th Infantry Regimental in August 1944 was a Texas National Guard Unit, the 124th Cavalry Regiment. With the two Units we became a Brigade. I understand this is the only Brigade in our Army during WWII. The reason for this formation was the British had limited our troops to be less than a Division, normally between seven to nine thousand men. The Brigade had about six thousand men. This new Unit was known as the Mars Task Force, a new name with new men, plus the veterans of Merrill's Marauders, making a fine fighting force that would make a name for themselves in the history books about WWII.

The newly formed Unit completed training and moved out of Camp Landis, crossing the Irriwaddy River and headed south. We would march for 50 minutes and rest for 10 minutes -- each man carried between 60 and 80 pounds of gear--blanket, toilet articles, extra underwear, socks, food, ammunition, his weapon, half a dozen hand grenades, two canteens, spoon, trench knife, compass, firt aid kit and anything else you thought you may need.

The mules, 275 in our Battalion, carried the heavy things such as machine guns, mortars (60mm and 81mm), medical supplies, radio equipment. The mules carried no kitchen or cooking equipment--you ate "C"rations, and they were not too bad.

We traveled 15 to 30 miles each day. The distance depended on the terrain. In the mountains, you did not go as far as on flat land. At times we would ford streams numerous times and other times we would stay in the stream for miles. We would try to bivouac at the end of our daily march by a water source. This was for bathing and watering the animals--both dogs and mules--and filling our canteens for the next day. Before dark we could have a fire to heat food, but after dark, there were no fires or lights. You moved around very little after marching all day with a heavy pack on your back.

The normal march began before daylight. The mules had to be loaded and ready for the trail. First to leave in the morning was the Quartering party made up of several men from each company, a squad of riflemen, a radio man, a medic and several others. Their mission was as the name indicated, they scouted ahead and located the place for the Unit to stop for the night. The men would determine where each company would be located and as the main Unit came to the area the men of the Quartering party would lead their Company to their spot for the night. The water source had to be marked, upstream one color for drinking was marked, one color for watering the animals, and the last for bathing.

Guard posts were set up, each man dug an area about three feet wide and six feet or longer and about one foot or more deep. This kept the typhus ticks from getting you and causing typhus, and the hole could be easily deepened if you were attacked during the night.

Every third morning the Drop party would head out and find a place for the food and supplies to be dropped to us. The Drop party would move out first, find a spot and contact the air drop group, put out marking panels that they could see from the air and time the drop to come at about the time the troop would reach that area. All was usually working good. We would move each day for several weeks unless we ran into a combat situation. We were behind enemy lines by a hundred miles or more.

We came to Tonkwa, Burma. We were told it was an important place even though it was a small village because five trails came through the village. The Second Battalion of the 475th Infantry moved into position after dark, dug in, set up machine guns, mortar and readied for battle. We didn't have to wait long because soon we heard the Japanese coming near our perimeter.

Fortunately, we had Nisei troops with us. These were American born Japanese men and they were very dedicated to their job. One of these men came forward, moved out near where the Japanese were digging in and listened to them. The Japanese did not have the faintest idea that we were anywhere in the area.

The japanese invasion of Burma in 1942 cut the supply routs to China. Myitkyina, Burma was a hugely important base for Japan. It had two airports or air fields, a rail and highway as well as river for boat traffic.

From the air fields, they were able to greatly curtail the flow of supplies by air between India and China. All land traffic was halted with the fall of Burma into Japanese hands.

The air supply route was much more dangerous because of weather conditions and it was a longer route, too. Because of these difficulties, ground troops were needed in Burma to cause confusion among the Japanese troops, and to capture the coveted Myitkyina.

Merrill's Marauders overran Myitkyina in mid-May, 1944. However, the strength of the unit was in sad disarray. They were weak from marching many miles through the jungles and over the mountains, from having lost many men to the enemy but more to the disease-carrying insects... fevers, malaria, typhus, dysentery and the like which debilitated the unit. The long march, the jungle and combat had taken a heavy toll on the men.

The airstrip was taken, but the city was not. The Unit did not have the strength to take the town. Two Chinese units were moved in to take the town, but ended up mistaking each other for the enemy and therefore battled each other, not taking the town. The enemy took advantage of the conditions and brought reinforcements into the battle, causing much concern.

Reinforcements were desparately needed, or lose the Myitkyina. Everything had to come in by air, because Myitkyina was hundreds of miles behind Japanese lines. This battle became the largest scale battle to be fought in Burma by the American troops, lasting three months during the monsoon weather. Losses were high on both sides of the line.

The first responsibility was to defend Myitkyina air strip and secondly to take the city. In Mitchell's Battalion, the losses were great. Company G, 2nd Battalion was caught in an ambush and more than 200 men were killed and only 17 escaped the ambush to report back what happened. One of the survivors had been shot through the face and left for dead. He managed to crawl back through the enemy to friendly territory, but he didn't look human. His face was covered in maggots. The medical officer said the maggots had saved his life by eating all the infection which would have killed him. The man did survive, and in fact was returned to the unit months later with his jaw wired with instructions to be fed soft diet. He was evacuated on the next transport to the rear area.

One of the worst things, other than the Company G ambush, was when some of the brass in the rear felt that the stalemat we were involved in could be broken by sending in B-25 bomber planes and bomb at high altitude, 5,000 feet, which they did. The bombs were dropped short and as many hit us as hit the enemy! We lost lots of men, over a hundred. It was a horrible experience trying to dig out men covered in their fox holes, blue from suffocation, body parts everywhere, wounded and dying everywhere. Several weeks later, the same planes came back again, gave us warning ahead of time, therefore, we could move our lines back 100 yards. The B-25 bombers came in again and hit our lines causing may more casualties. No one ever admitted responsibility or offered any reason or any "sorry about that". We never again had bombing by B-25s, thank goodness.

Our air support was by fighter bomber planes. The old P-r0s did an outstanding support job. They would fly in ver low dropping 250 pound bombs or the napome bombs, belly tanks which were filled with a liquid mixture that would ignite, covering a large area with flaming liquid, going into bunkers, fox holes and trenche, very frightening even to us. The P-40s also came in low, strafe the enemy positions with 50 caliber machine guns. We never lost any men from this type of air support.

The war in China, Burma, and India was the result of the Japanese cutting all supply lines into China. There had been fighting in China since 1937 with several million troops there. The Japanese had taken every port that could be used to import supplies except Burma.

Supplies that came into Burma through Rangoon and other ports were moved by rail, trucks and river boats up to where the Japanese invaded in 1942, running the British and Chinese troops back into India. Burma, as well as India, was British territory and had been British controlled for many years. The loss of Burma left only one source of supplies to China from the USA, which was to fly supplies from India into China over the Himalayan mountains, better known as The Hump. The flight over the Hump was treacherous, very high, snow covered, and the mountain peaks were often covered by clouds. Add to that the frequent bad weather and Japanese planes and you've got a hugely dangerous mix.

The Japanese had fighter planes based in Myitkyina, Burma that could intercept the transports going over the lower, safer part of the Hump. Thia forced pilots to fly further north into higher, and more dangerous mountains. These conditions caused so much loss of life, supplies and planes the route was often called The Aluminum Trail because of all the crashes along the trail. There were a few that had made the trip numerous times, but they had a rough time of it.

The USA needed to supply the Chinese in order to keep them fighting the Japanese. That would keep millions of Japanese occupied with China and out of the Pacific War, plus it would keep the Japanese using up valuable supplies in the China campaign.

Presient Roosevelt and Winston Churchill met and decided to try and retake Burma. The Birtish wanted this because it was their colony and the USA wanted it to make it easier to get more supplies to China. The British wanted more American supplies for their forces in India so that they could retake Burma.

So, the call for volunteers went out to all the Army camps and posts throughout the States and out laying bases in Central America.

"Wanted: Volunteers for a dangerous, hazardous mission in jungle warfare"

There was no mention of where the volunteers would be sent, only that it was for jungle warfare and that it was dangerous. The call was answered by men from many backgrounds, as well as many places. This was ground work for the Units that later became the 5307th Composite Unit Provisional, better known as Merrill's Marauders. Pages have now been written in history books about this unit and their exploits in their march through Burma.

The battle for Burma involved many different Army units such as the Air Corp, Quartermaster, Medical Units, Transportation and the like. All were needed to complete this daunting task. The US Army Engineers did an almost impossible task of building roads across Burma to reach the Burma Road; and in building an oil pipeline from India to China across Burma. They worked through the dry season and through the monsoon seasons to make a road a reality.

When the Infantry was able to clear the Burma Road, their job in Burma was over. Those that were left, either went to China or to India. The group that I was with ended up in China.
Sgt/Maj Ray F. Mitchell
5307th CUP
475th Infantry

I had one of the most interesting conversations the other day... well, about 2 weeks ago--with a gentleman who is a WWII veteran. Click on the link below to read the first part.

He grew up in Picayune and volunteered to the Army.

There was a bit of confusion at the gates of Camp Shelby, just outside of Hattiesburge, Mississippi. The Army was used to handling draftees, not volunteers. After they sorted all that out they trained two new recruits: Ray F. Mitchell and his cousin Sonny.

I'm going to take the next few days and tell his story. The first part of the story is here. I'm running his story on the front page of the paper, but there just isn't enough room to tell the whole story and I think this is a story that needs to be told. It is quite a nail-biter, on-the-edge-of-your-seat kind of story. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.

9/11 Tribute to Maj. Steve Long

About Me

My first love is using my
God-given talent to shine a light in a dark world, and I am so committed to
bringing God glory with my editing and my own writing. We are always looking for good authors at Christian Publishing House. I am a weekly columnist for Studylight.org and monthly contributor at LivingBetter50.com Each column comes out on Sundays at LiveAsIf.org for Studylight. Check them out.

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